On window panes, the icy frost
I made a big decision a little while ago.
Explorers are we, intrepid and bold,
My mother has eyes on the back of her head!
At night my mind does not much care
What if my bones were in a museum,
I did not want to go with them.
Now I'm in bed,
All poems © Bill Waterson, Page © 2000, Anton Hufford.
leaves feathered patterns, crissed and crossed,
but in our house the christmas three
is decorated festively
With tiny dots of colored light
that cozy up this winter night.
Christmas songs, familar, slow,
play softly on the radio.
Pops and hisses from the fire
whistle with the bells and choir.
my tiger is now fast asleep
on his back no dreaming deep.
when the fire makes him hot,
he turns to warm whatever's not.
propped agianst him on the rug,
I give my friend a gentle hug.
Tomarrow's what I'm waiting for,
But i can wait a little more.
I don't remember what is was, which prob'ly goes to show
That many times a simple choice can prove to be essentail
Even though it might often appear inconsequential.
I must have been distracted when i left my home becuase
Left or right I'm sure I went. (I wonder which it was!)
Anyway, I never veered: I walked in that direction
Utterly absorbed, it seems, in quiet introspection
For no reason I can think of, I've wandered far astray
And that is how i got to where I find myself today.
Out in the wild, amongst wonders untold.
Equipped with our wits a map, and a snack,
We're searching for fun and we're on the right track!
I don't quite believe it, but that's what she said.
She explained that she'd been so uniquely endowed
To catch me when I did Things Not Allowed.
I think she must also have eyes on her rear.
I've noticed her hindsight is unusually clear.
If what it thnks is here of there.
It tells me stories in invents
And makes up things that don't make sense.
I dont know why it does this stuff.
The real world seems quite weird enough.
Where aliens paid good money to see 'em?
And suppose they'd put my together all wrong,
Sticking bones on to bones where they didn't belong!
Imagine phalanges, pelvis and spine
Welded to mandibles that once had been mine!
With eatch misassemblage, the error compounded,
The aliens would draw back in terror, astounded!
Their textbooks would show me in grim illustration,
The most hideous thing ever seen in creation!
The museum would commission a model in plaster,
Of ME, to be called, "Evolution's Disaster"!
And paleontologists there would debate
Dozens of theories to help postulate
How man survived for those thousands of years
With teeth- covered arms growing out of his ears!
Oh I hope that I'm never in such manner displayed,
No matter HOW much to see me these aliens paid.
Alas, I had no choice.
This was made quite clear to me
In threat'ning tones of voice.
I protested mightily
And scrambled 'cross the floor.
But though I grabbed furniture,
They dragged me out the door.
In the car, I screamed and moaned.
I cried my red eyes dry.
The window down, I yelled for help
To people who passed by.
Mom and Dad can make the rules
And certain things forbid,
But I can make them wish they
Had never had a kid.
The sheets pulled to my head.
My tiger is here making Zs.
He's furry and hot.
He takes up a lot
Of the bed and he's hogging the breeze.
